My Dying Love
by Sora-sama-kun
Summary: This all started almost two years before, as Alfred walked home. He hadn't been paying attention, and he'd ran head-on into those beautiful emerald hues. Will Alfred get his lover back? Rated M for gore. Yaoi implied, but not written.


_**This all started almost two years before, as Alfred walked home. He hadn't been paying attention, and he'd ran head-on into those beautiful emerald hues. Will Alfred get his lover back?**_

_**Rated M for gore. Yaoi implied, but not written.**_

_**Well, to begin with, this fanfic is based off of my own mind's perception of my undying love for my fiancee. I know it may be a bit controlling, or maybe even mental. But all is well, for it is only a FF, no?**_

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Axis Powers: Hetalia in any way!**

–

Alfred's fists opened and closed. He was hunched in front of his laptop, the screen glowing a slight blue as the image he'd clicked on appeared before him. He growled, deep from his throat, his very soul.

_**That hair.. that smile.. those piercing green eyes... all mine.. mine...**_ He thought as he ran his fingers along the smiling face on the screen. Next to that smiling face, was another. But this face was gruesome, ugly, horrid. The face that stole his heart's desire away from him, now before him. He growled again and ran his nails down the screen, cracking it ever so slightly. He didn't care. He would get his lover back. Arthur was his, all his. And that frog was going to pay for taking him away.

This all started almost two years before, as Alfred walked home. He hadn't been paying attention, and he'd ran head-on into those beautiful emerald hues. He'd smiled, scratching the back of his neck. "Sorry 'bout that, bro." He looked at the other and helped him up. Those hues growled at him, and brushed off. "Watch where you're going, git." Alfred laughed. "You got a funny way a' speakin' don'tcha?" The other had sighed. "Oh good lord. _I_ have the funny way of speaking. Of course." Alfred shrugged. "Well, I like your shirt. Pretty snazzy." Alfred mentally facepalmed. Why had he said snazzy? Couldn't he have said something a little more.. Witty? Like, handsome, or classy. No, he had to go and say snazzy. What the fuck, Al. What the fuck.

Arthur had done the unbelievable. He'd blushed. "W-Well I.. Thank you. Yours is pretty-" Alfred had turned and ran, covering his face. Arthur just stood in bewilderment, blinking. He sighed and went on his way, momentarily forgetting where he was going.

Later on that evening, Alfred had pulled into a restaurant to grab a bite to eat, and low and behold, who had he seen? Arthur. The stunning, gorgeous, amazingly cunning Arthur. The two said their hellos and apologies, and started talking. They soon realized they had lots in common, and exchanged numbers. The entire time, Alfred's mind had been pounding in his head, his heart pounding in his chest. He loved the other the moment he saw him, and knew he'd be seeing a lot more of the other. Alot more.

Alfred growled again and stood, going to his den. His sanctuary. He opened the drawer in the small table by the couch, pulling out the utensil he'd been using often to fix his problems. He turned off the lights, plugged his earbuds in, and blasted their song through his ears. He lifted his arm to the iPod's light, and waited a moment. His body trembled, tears fell down his cheeks, and he slashed. He slashed every inch of his forearm, all the way to his wrists, where he carved a single name.

_**Arthur.**_

Arthur was all he could think about, all he could breathe. He dreamed of the days when he and Arthur played video games together, of when they'd gone to see countless movies. He missed the warm feel of the other, the heat of the moments they shared and treasured. He wished he could kiss those lips fully and harshly, to hold the other close and be joined again from chest to hip like they always did before.

He'd woken so many times to find the spot beside him empty and cold, like his heart. Visions of the other's embracing smile, his hearty laugh.

The breathtaking kisses and moans and sighs from the other were what helped him wake in the morning. Arthur was Alfred's world. And his world was crumbling at the blink of an eye. He sobbed loudly, crimson tears flowing from his wounds. He'd done this a million times before, the blood no longer frightened him. It felt good, the cold liquid as it slid down his creamy tan skin. The skin that had tanned from so many football games, and the times he spent in the band next to the one he loved. He sniffled and pressed a rag to the scars. His breath stopped with his heart. His tears faded and he fell fast, down into darkness.

His dying thoughts ran through his mind.

_**Arthur. I love you.**_


End file.
